


duck season

by aloophen



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Farmer Kita Shinsuke, Gen, Timeskip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:21:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27070054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aloophen/pseuds/aloophen
Summary: Kita’s always been a morning person.
Relationships: Kita Shinsuke/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 92





	duck season

Kita’s always been a morning person. He rises with the first lights of dawn and always without struggle. When the morning sun stretches its way past your bedroom window, his eyes are already open and aware. You, on the other hand, are a different story.

Head still on his pillow, he turns to face you and reaches over to pat you lightly on the hip, “Time to get up.”

You groan in protest and roll away from him, but he follows and gently pulls you back. You emit a pathetic note which is muffled by the blanket covering you. Kita lifts the blanket from your face, “Did ya forget what you told me last night?”

You squint up at him with bleary eyes, “That was last night, today is a new day.”

Kita’s eyes darken as he stares coolly into your own. Even after years together, a cold chill still travels up your spine at the sight. You suddenly find yourself less drowsy.

“‘M awake, Shinsuke,” you mumble.

With a faint upturn of his lips, he rubs your arm and gets up to start his morning routine. It’s something you’ve always enjoyed watching. Even if you had managed to fend off Kita and gone back to sleep, you would have rolled over anyway to watch him as he began his day.

Every habitual move he makes; every step in his routine is always done in the same fashion and in the same order. You watch as he dresses himself; the wiry muscle of his arms, his skin tanned from working under the hot sun and smelling faintly of the perfume you had gifted him. His wedding band sits on a chain around his neck; it’s too risky for him to keep it on his ring finger as he works. You watch as he tucks it into his shirt. 

Habit brings him back to you to give you a customary kiss goodbye, but you stop him by lightly pressing your fingers to his lips. Your thumb moves to rub the underside of his jaw as you remind him that you would be joining him that morning. His face slightly reddens, coaxing a laugh out of you as he leaves the room shortly, urging you to hurry up. 

By the time you’ve finished your own routine and made your way into the kitchen, he’s already set up your place at the table. He waits for you to seat yourself before giving thanks and beginning his own meal. You both chat lightly over breakfast and despite the early hour Kita maintains his usual endearing, listening look. Kita’s grandmother joins in halfway through your meal. 

She smiles at you, “Early, ain’t it?”

You return her smile with a tired one of your own. She rubs your hand comfortingly. As you and Kita prepare to leave you promise her you’ll be back soon to help her around the house. 

It’s in the entryway of the house while you’re both putting on your boots that Kita seems to notice your attire. 

His question is blunt, “Why are ya wearin’ that dress?”

You look down at your dress in confusion, “What? You told me you like this dress.”

He nods, “I do.”

“First day out in the paddies; feels like I’m taking my kids to their first day of school,” you narrow your eyes at him, “I want to look nice, what’s the problem?”

Kita shakes his head, “It could get mud on it.”

“I’ll be careful.”

He shoots you a doubtful look and you glare at him in return. Just to needle him you ask, “Just the dress? You’re not concerned about _me_ getting muddy?”

“Well, that can’t be helped,” there’s a hint of a smile in his voice, “ya married a rice farmer after all.”

He takes your hand and leads you down the dirt path. The lukewarm sun is ascending in the morning sky, everything its warmth touches bleeds orange; from the muddy still water of the rice paddies to the reaching stalks themselves. There’s a chorus of chirrups in the distance which only grows louder and louder as you and Kita reach a coop. 

A small army of ducks is running around restlessly within the coop. The peeping begins to crescendo when they spot your husband. Ducks are falling over each other while chirping furiously as they run towards Kita. He gives them a small amount of feed to calm them and so you can both enter without being met with a barrage of frenzied birds. 

You squat down greeting the ducks enthusiastically much to Kita’s amusement, “And to think ya didn’t want to get up this morning.” 

You ignore his comment and continue chatting with the birds as he brings out a large basket. He begins to collect them into the basket. You pause your own doings to observe him; you can hear him gently murmuring to the small birds as he picks them up. You can make out the sound of him bidding them good morning and not much else. Maybe you should take a video, Suna would love to see this. 

Helping him collect the birds is an easy task, he’s been training them well to be cooperative. Some of them even run into your hands as though they’re begging to be shepherded into the basket. When it’s down to the last few, Kita points at a particularly disheveled duck, “That one looks like you when you wake up in the morning.”

You glare at him again, but hold your tongue. He’s robbed you of your beauty sleep and he’s been ribbing you all morning, but Kita has a way about him that makes you feel like a monster if you even consider raising your voice at him. 

You spot a duck standing by itself, staring intensely at the basket filled with its brethren; a ring of black feathers circles its head. It’s childish, but you point at it anyway, “That one’s you.”

Together, the ducks are carried down to the field. You stay with the basket as Kita parts the fencing so the birds can make their way into the paddy field. When it’s time to release them you crouch down by the fence to keep them from straying. 

“What do you want for dinner?” you ask as you do your best imitation of a crossing guard. 

“Anything you make is delicious,” he replies. 

“No requests at all?”

He brings a hand to his chin and looks up contemplatively. As he’s doing so, one of the ducks—the one he had pointed out earlier— circles back. It’s dripping mud and still looking a bit unkempt. 

You reach a hand out to redirect it, “Hello—”

You let out a shriek as the bird shakes itself vigorously to free its feathers of the mud. Droplets hit the skirt of your dress. Seemingly content, the mud-slinging duck smoothes itself out. Kita stares it down with a blank expression as it waddles away and rejoins the herd. 

“I feel like that should’ve been for you, not me,” you pout as you inspect your dress. When you look back up at him, he’s still staring after the duck, “it’ll wash out, Shin.”

Encircling your arms around his waist, you ask again, “So, no dinner requests?

He nods as he brings an arm around you. “Don’t say you want duck,” you joke.

He takes the edge of your dress between his fingers and inspects the mud stains, “I wasn’t, let’s have grilled salmon tonight.”

There’s a glint in his eyes that always tells when he’s about to tease you. 

“Tomorrow,” he says, “we can have duck.”

**Author's Note:**

> no ducks were harmed, just wasn't sure how to end it haha. i love kita but i'm not 100% confident in writing for him yet, i just know i want him to build me a greenhouse
> 
> @alouphen on tumblr


End file.
